


New Perspective

by AliceHasA_SQUIP



Category: VenturianTale Characters (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sad, Slow To Update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-06-26 10:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceHasA_SQUIP/pseuds/AliceHasA_SQUIP
Summary: *note: Ao3 is being mean and the character tags won't work,  so all the characters so far in this story are: Johnny Ghost, Johnny Toast, the Acachalla's, Jimmy Casket, and some surprises here and there! Alright, enjoy!Johnny Ghost's last episode had been severe, not only did he murder someone once more at the cabin, but Johnny Toast witnessed the end result, how terrified his partner's face looked when he respawned, how he was mumbling to himself every so often, which Toast couldn't understand. It had been a hectic night, and the Brit didn't know how to protect his friend.Three months had passed, and Johnny Toast kept a closer eye on Johnny Ghost, making sure to stay by his side at all times, not allowing him to go on missions alone.He didn't know how to help his boss, partner, best friend, but one thing was for sure: he was going to get to the bottom of this absolutely horrific chaos.No matter what it took.





	1. Three Months

**Author's Note:**

> This is a new story I am working on, and I deiced to just post one chapter to see if it's good or not. So, if you like it, drop a comment and tell me so I know to continue! Thank you!  
> This will also be posted on my Quotev account, which I will link if you want me to. Now... On with this mess of a story!

A lot of things had happened to Johnny Ghost in just the span of three months, and not only until recently had he finally begun leading back to the life he considered to be normal. Where he would hear the phone ring at least once a day, and he would be boarding a plane to Eastern Europe, or wherever fate decided to take him. Where his partner Johnny Toast would wake up much earlier than him for some reason and already have breakfast made.

Johnny Toast kept a closer eye on his partner after the incident at camp. Ever since that night, the Brit was constantly near Ghost, always tagging along in every mission, even if the American said he could handle it. They didn't need another “episode” as severe as the last one.

_Johnny Toast ran out as quick as he could, making a quick dash to the car he had driven in so he could get the engine running. He was terrified at his partner’s words, and all he wanted was to get home safely with him._

_Once the car was running smoothly, he went inside the cabin and looked up, seeing Johnny Ghost’s body no longer there._

_“Sir, where are you?” the Brit asked in a shaky voice, looking left and right for the man. Turning around, he let out a loud yelp when he can face to face with him._

_“Johnny? Johnny, where in the world are we? What happened?” the American asked quickly, a pained expression on his pale face. “I don't remember why I’m here, where-”_

_“We’re going home,” Toast cut in, grabbing his arm and leading him to the pink vehicle. He didn't speak. Didn't answer the man’s questions. Just drove as quickly as he could. Once home and situated on the couch, he finally looked at Ghost._

_“Sir, do you really not remember anything?” Toast asked in a tired voice, a headache making everything just so much better._

_“I- I remember being scared. I remember a laugh, but- no. I don't remember anything,” he gave in with a small sigh, looking sickly in the dim lighting of the house._

_“Do you remember those... those nice people who helped you years ago? We can go talk to them again, they can_ help _you, where I can't.”_

_“No, I'm fine. I don't want to talk to anyone, I just- I just want some sleep,” Ghost replied, curling up on the couch next to his partner._

_“Alright, you can, let's get you up to your room, alright? We can talk in the morning,” Toast helped the younger man up, and brought him to his room._

_They didn't talk about it._

Johnny Ghost walked down the stairs, smelling French toast being made. Gosh, his best friend did so much for literally nothing. It was amazing how nice he was.

“Good morning, sir. I've made some coffee if you want any. How did you sleep?”

Ghost didn't want to admit it, but his dreams hadn't been the best as of late. Usually, they would be of cats, and where he was Johnny Toast, and _he_ had all the fangirls and fanart, and _he_ was a charming British man with a rich family, where his partner was the dork in a gray hoodie and man purse, being all clumsy and dorky. His dreams were now nightmares, him trying to run away from a shadow that was always chasing him. Screams of terror as people he cared about or worked with died by the hands of his own.

He knew he was not at all normal, and that something was wrong with him. He had witnessed that when he got mad, he would kill. But they came back from the dead, so it wasn't that bad, was it? He didn't know what would happen, though. It's as if he blanked out completely, and woke up with no real recollection of what happened. His partner knew something was seriously wrong after the night at the cabin, but he was not going to mention it.

Johnny Ghost was also getting tired of Toast treating him like a child. The past weeks, Toast would always pop up by his side, and of course Ghost knew why.

He was a monster.

“Fine, I slept fine,” the man said, stirring the coffee in his hands sleepily. Toast didn't look entirely convinced, but thought it best to not push.

The two talked as if nothing had ever changed. They talked about everything, except for Ghost. Except for his short-lived retirement and anything else. They ate in silence.

The phone rang an hour later, which Toast hurried to go get, and when he brought it up to his ear, he barely got one word in.

“Hell-”

“Toast! There is this thing in our house that keeps crying, and we tried to comfort it but it shuns us every time, and it keeps shouting for random things and,” Sally Acachalla complained in one breath, until another voice asked for the phone.

“Hi, yes thank you. Mister Toast? Hi, we have a little ghost problem that we need help fixing. It keeps throwing fits, and won't stop yelling a certain name? Can you help us?” Gertrude Acachalla asked nicely, humming at the end of her sentence.

“Yes, ma'am. We’ll be right there to help,” Toast assured, earning a small thank you from the other side of the call. He hung up and rubbed his face. He didn't even bother to ask for detail anymore, usually their ghost problem was something they could fix with ease. Probably less than a level six, by what Gertrude described. Which they could handle-- they've dealt with much worse.

“Sir, the Acachalla's need help with a small ghost problem, but it sounded urgent,” Toast explained, grabbing his ghost hunting gear in the process.

Johnny Ghost groaned, but got up anyways. “Well, let's go help them, then,” he ordered, finishing his second cup of coffee and smiling.

“Ah, that is exactly the spirit, sir!” Toast complimented with a smile of his own.


	2. The Acachalla Investigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: VERY mild gore. Only a very small mention.

The Acachalla family household was crazy at best. There was always something going on, some sort of yelling and fits, and Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast didn't know whether it was  _ fortunate  _ or  _ unfortunate  _ that they knew that from multiple first hand experiences.

The two Johnnys had been there at least twenty times, meaning they knew the place and people like the back of their hand. They had a son and a daughter named Billy and Sally, the husband was Papa, and the wife was Gertrude. There is a ginger kid named Spencer who was really smart, had a lisp, and lived in the basement. That was the basics, at least.

“Are you ready, sir? You look a little pale,” Johnny Toast asked, stopping the car along the street instead of the driveway (they knew better than that).

“I’m fine, Johnny! Just didn't get much sleep, no need to worry,” the younger male insisted with a role of his eyes. His partner was always worried about him, overreacting if he was to admit it.

The two got out of the car, Ghost grabbing his satchel and Toast grabbing his backpack. They both paused to make sure they had everything needed for their current investigation, and proceeded to head forward.

“Not it on knocking!” Ghost called quickly, smirking when the Brit groaned quietly and hesitantly knocked on the wooden door.

“Gertrude, some’nes at the door! Do I need to get my shotgun?” the unmistakable voice of Papa Acachalla yelled, earning a  _ tsk  _ from his wife.

“No, dear! That would be P.I.E., I called them because of our ghost problem?” Gertrude answered back, opening the door. “Thank you for coming, especially since I called so early. Come on in,” she held the door open wider, patting the two on the back as they walked in.

“Not a problem, ma’am, we were awake. Now, can you tell us what exactly is going on? You weren't very clear on the phone,” Toast asked, grabbing his notebook.

“I’m going to go look around,” Ghost hummed, walking away slowly, which earned him a nod from his partner.

“It's this, like, blocky thingy, it's been breaking everything and we are getting sick trying to fix it. It's been saying a name as well, and we've told it that we don't know him but.. Oh boy are they persistent.”

“What name is it saying? That way I can figure out if Ghost and I find it familiar,” the British man asked, looking up at Gertrude for a moment.

“Gregory.”

Johnny Ghost, meanwhile, was searching the house, noting the broken glass and dirty objects. “This all seems familiar,” he whispered, waving his ghost detector slowly around. Not until he was upstairs, nearing Sally's room, did his detector go off. Raising an eyebrow, he knocked on the girl’s door.

“Sally, can I come in for a moment? It's Johnny Ghost, paranormal investigator extraordinaire.” he questioned, his hand reaching his gun.

“Yeah!” the childish voice of Sally Acachalla accepted, and Johnny Ghost made his way inside

“I’m just here to check- what the heck?” he exhaled, face paling at the sight.

There was a cardboard box in a crouching position, trying to twirl around in a swivel chair. When the entity saw Johnny Ghost, it's eyes flipped. 

“Gwegory, you're back again!” it exclaimed, getting up quickly to try and hug his leg.

“I- I don't know you, get away from me,” he growled. The box looked so familiar, but he couldn't think of where. He had been on so many cases, he tended to lose count.

“But Gwegory, I was your fwiend! We used to laugh and play, and I read stories to you!” the box consisted.

“Mister Ghost, you know this thing?” Sally asked in a surprised voice.

“No! I've never- New Jersey. The- the wedding and,” he backed up slowly, eyes widening. “I saw that thing years ago when I left this house, when I woke up confused because I didn't know where I was,” the man rambled, leaning against the wall. “Does that mean that  _ thing _ has something to do with that?” Johnny asked himself, furrowing his brows in concentration. 

“Gwegory, we met a few years ago again when you came back to see me! Don't you remember?”

Johnny Ghost didn't remember, no matter how hard he tried, he could never remember what happened before his episodes, or even during. It was maddening.

_ There was this ghost made out of cardboard, cardboard buddy, cardboard friend- friend…. _

“Uh, Ghost? Are you okay? You look like you are about to puke,” Sally asked, making her way towards Johnny Ghost. 

“Don't stand any closer, Sally. Just- stay in your room. I can handle this,” he pushed the girl lightly into her room and stood in the hall, trying to breath slowly.

“Gwegory, aren't you happy to see me again?” Cardboard Friend hummed, moving closer to hooded male.

Johnny grabbed his gun with salt and silver, pointing it at the sad figure in front of him. “Stay back! Stay-” he laughed a little, keeping his gun trained on the ghost.

Johnny Toast looked up when he heard his partner yell. He glanced at Gertrude before they both ran up the stairs. “Sir!” Toast called, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Ghost with a gun in his hands, a crazed look in his eyes. “Sir, put the gun down, it's okay.”

“I said stay back, all of you! Stay back or I swear I will shoot!” he laughed again, pointing the gun at Toast.

“Johnny, honey, it's okay!” Gertrude tried, slowly bringing out her crowbar.

“Gwegory? Are you mad at me?” the tan box spoke, somewhat hovering its way to Johnny Ghost.

“How many times do I have to tell you that  _ I am not Gregory! _ ” his laugh echoed through the hall, causing Billy and Sally to both see what the noise was.

“Mama what's going on?” Billy asked once his head was peeking out through the door.

“You two go back to your room and stay there, alright? Ghost is just… he’ll be okay.” Gertrude frowned, keeping a tight grip on the crowbar in her hand.

Johnny Toast saw his partner about to absolutely lose it, so he quickly stepped in. “I am Johnny Toast, paranormal investigator, partner and best friend of the extraordinaire Johnny Ghost, and I hereby  _ banish _ you from whatever realm you came from! Be gone, you pest!” he yelled at Cardboard Friend, raising his volume by the ending words. 

Cardboard Friend gasped and let out a high scream, slowly fading away from the house before zooming upwards, phasing through the roof and leaving.

“Just because you can get rid of that stupid ghost, doesn't mean you can get rid of me,” Johnny Ghost said in a low growl, eyes on his partner. He was holding his knife, twirling it slowly through his fingers.

“Sir? Are- are you okay?” Toast asked, slowly walking towards the man, fear in his eyes. He knew this couldn't be his gentle best friend. He knew he was facing someone dangerous.

Johnny Ghost laughed, gripping his knife. “Do you wanna know my secret?”

“Hit him, for the love of all that is holy, smack him with your crowbar!” Toast yelled, grabbing his gun and pointing it at Ghost's neck.

Gertrude ran forward quickly, swiping the crowbar at Ghost's legs. Johnny Ghost fell backwards with a groan, his head hitting the tiled floor.

“Sir? Are you okay?” Toast whispered, going to Ghost.

Johnny Ghost was unconscious, blood trickling down from his head, staining the floor.

“I didn't mean to do  _ that!” _

“It's okay,” Toast muttered. “Can I lay him on the couch? He isn't dead, but he hit his head pretty hard.”

“Of course, dear, stay as long as you need to,” Mama Gertrude helped the Brit grab Johnny Ghost, and eased him onto the couch.

The paranormal investigator extraordinaire woke up an hour later to a bright light shone in his eyes.

“Sally, don't do that, you're going to hurt him,” Ghost heard Gertrude chastise.

“Where am I?” the man asked in a hoarse tone, feeling sweaty and sick.

“You're at the Acachallas, sir. Do you… do you happen to remember what happened?” Johnny Toast asked, worry apparent in his features.

“No… did we investigate this house? Was there… something….” he closed his eyes, paling. “I’m gonna be sick,” Ghost groaned, arms crossed.

“It's okay, sir. You're going to be alright. We were investigating when you started, uh, started to get bit loopy? Gertrude had to knock you out, and you hit your head pretty hard. I bandaged it up.” Toast informed, kneeling beside his partner

Nobody spoke for a few minutes, everyone lost in their own mind. Ghost adjusted to the fact that he was on the couch, safe, and everyone looked worried.

“We should be getting back home. I’ll fix you some tea once we get there. Mrs. Gertrude, thank you for letting us stay.” Johnny Toast thanked, slowly helping his partner up.

“It's no problem, you're welcome anytime. And Toast,” she got up and touched his shoulder. “Don't forget to ask, okay?” she reminded, nodding her head towards Ghost as mention.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll ask him. Come on sir.”

Toast helped Ghost to the car and placed him inside, allowing him to adjust the seat back. Gosh, he was so worried about his partner. He had an idea about what was going on, but he wasn't going to mention it, oh no. Then, Ghost would do something bad, he was sure of it. When the American retired and moved away, that hurt him so much. He couldn't allow that to happen again.

They  _ were _ going to have a long talk once they got home, though. That, he was sure of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am really excited to get this going! I hope you enjoy this story so far, and if you have any suggestions on how to make it better, let me know! I have so many ideas. :)


	3. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are enjoying this story so far, give some kudos, bookmark it, and cOmment! Sorry in advance because this chapter is pretty aWful but eNJOY!

In the largish house Johnny Ghost and Johnny Toast lived in, the air was tense, and an uncomfortable silence had reached them. Toast had sat his partner down onto the couch, and was fixing a cup of tea to help relax the two. It wasn't long before he sat down next to Ghost, handing him the hot cup of tea with a mint stick.

“So, sir, how are you?” the Brit asked quietly, placing his cup on the coffee table.

“Fine, I guess,” Johnny Ghost mumbled, his temple resting on his fist comfortably. He was still paler than usual, and he looked exhausted from the past few hours of being awake.

Johnny Ghost was a pretty confident man, as well as egotistical and sometimes too cocky. Everyone had learned to deal with it- he wasn't hurting anybody. Lately, though, the man Johnny Toast had known for so long had become different, quiet, almost sickly. The two couldn't handle confrontation, so the best Toast could do was do the small things to help his friend out; make tea, have conversations with him, et cetera

“What did you want to talk about, Johnny?” Ghost asked, sitting up and crossing his legs. “I heard Gertrude reminding you to ask me something, so what is it?”

“Sir, do you really not remember anything that happened before seeing that ghost?” the Brit asked quietly, a serious look on his face.

“No, I don't. I barely even remember seeing it at all. Johnny, remember when you went to the Rake’s wedding, and I was up in New Jersey?” Johnny Ghost asked suddenly, kind of confusing the naturally pale man in front of him.

“Well, yes, but I hardly think that now is the time to-”

“That's where I saw it. I was walking to the car all confused because I had woken up from my episode, and that thing was scooting its little butt around. I think that box is following me around or targeting me,”

“Oh… _oh._ Oh my, I didn't think of that. I- sir, why does it call you Gregory? I’ve searched everywhere for the name while you were unconscious, I can't find anything anywhere.”

“I don't know who Gregory is, Johnny. Maybe he was the first victim? I don't- not Gregory. I don't _know_ who that person is.”

“Sir, please calm down! I wasn't saying you did, I was just wondering, okay? We need to get to the bottom of this if we want to stop this from happening again. I don't want you kill-” Johnny Toast stopped speaking, his eyes widening for a moment before he tried to brush off the fact he almost said something dangerous.

“You don't want me what, Johnny? Killing innocent people? Because guess what, I'm having a hard time _controlling it_ ,” Ghost growled, hands curled into fists.

“Sir, please- that isn't what I meant. I- wait what?”

“When I was in different dimensions or whatever, I shot Spooker, and when I realized what had happened? He was dead. I don't remember what had happened, I never remember what happened. Something is obviously wrong with me!” the American yelled, placing his head in his hands. “I’m a freak, Johnny.”

“Sir… you aren't a freak. We’ll get through this, I’ll help you!” the Brit gave his best friend a tight hug, and Ghost decided to return it, lying his head on Toast’s head in the process.

“Thank you, Johnny. For everything. I don't know how you can stay here with me for so long without just quitting your job.”

Toast laughed softly, shrugging at Ghost’s comment. “I'm stuck with this job forever, sir. So, no getting rid of me!”

“Well, good. The house would be a nightmare if you did leave,” Johnny Ghost let go at last, his body not as tense as before.

“Also, if you don't mind me asking, what was your dream about? I went into your room last night to grab a book of yours, and I found you shaking pretty badly, only for it to stop after a moment,”

“And you didn't try waking me up? That's very thoughtful of you,” Ghost grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Well, I _did_ try to wake you up, but you fell back asleep three seconds after,” Toast explained, a concentrated look on the man’s face.

“It was nothing, Johnny. I don't even remember exactly,” Ghost lied in a slight defensive tone. He did remember, he remembered voices and laughs, and nightmarish scenes playing over and over. The American never shared to his best friend things that were _really_ bad. He didn't want him to worry, even though he knew he needed help.

“Alright, alright, I was just wondering,” he frowned, picking at his nails, before looking right into Ghost’s eyes. “You can tell me _anything,_ Johnny. I'm here for you, I promise.”

Ghost looked down, chewing the inside of his cheek. Johnny Toast rarely said his first name, only when he wanted the hooded man to know something important.

“I- I know, Toast, we've been best friends for years,” Ghost felt sick from the fact he was hiding so much from Toast, and it showed.

“Sir, you should rest, you look pretty pale,” the British man put his hand to Johnny’s forehead, which he responded to with a grunt.

“I’m fine, Johnny! I'm part ghost, aren't I? I'm supposed to be pale,” Toast sighed, rolling his eyes at the man, but a smile could be seen on his face.

Johnny Ghost was about to speak when a loud crash could be heard from outside. Raising his brow, he opened the front door and saw Spooker holding a silver, funny-looking gun.

“Spooker, what are you doing?” Ghost asked in an annoyed voice, moving slightly so Toast could stand beside him.

“Uh, I found this gun and I don't know what it does,” Fred said, looking at the gun, then the Johnnys.

“Where is Colon?” Toast asked, a frown apparent on his face.

“Oh, I dunno. Probably at home watching The Emoji Movie or something.”

“People actually watch that?” Toast asked in confusion.

Johnny Ghost snorted, quietly laughing behind his hand. “No, only him,” he kept laughing, but tried hard to not do so.

“Apparently! Anyways I dunno what to do with this,” Spooker said, pretending to pull the trigger of the odd-looking gun.

“Well, don't play with it, it could be dangerous. Just put it in here,” Ghost instructed.

Everything happened so slow: Spooker accidentally pulled the trigger of the gun, creating a black and red portal underneath the Johnnys feet. The two men fell through with a loud yell, and the portal disappeared.

“Ghost! Toast!” Spooker yelled, patting the floor where the portal just was. “Oh man, what did I do!”

After what felt like an eternity, Johnny Ghost and Toast reached land, not hitting the ground as softly as expected.

When they sat up, they found themselves dressed in blue, and a timer on their wrist that counted fifteen seconds until the Seeker was released.

“Oh, no… Johnny,” Ghost had a shocked expression on his face.

“Yes, sir?” the Brit did as well, looking at his boss in worry.

"We’re in a different game mode.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this is so late, and not a good chapter! I had zero motivation for this chapter, but I finally have an idea of what I wanna do with the story, so yEah. Next chapter will be way better, I promise.  
> Also, I know Ghost and Toast have been in different game modes before, but pUSH THAT ALL TO THE SIDE. In this, there is the normal universe they live in, then there are separate game modes in different cities.  
> Again, I am genuinely so sorry that this chapter was bad. 
> 
> But.. If you are liking the story so far, remember to give it kudos, bookmark it, and leave a comment! It 🅱UiLdS bY sElF-EsTeEm hHhH.


	4. Please Read This

Hey guys, sorry for the lack of posting.

I was getting to like, the second chapter of the story and absolutely hating it. I just had no motivation to do anything with it. Also my WiFi cut out so I had no way to do anything ://.

So, here is my solution- I can either rewrite the third chapter and try to go from there, or completely rewrite the story-- (with the same-ish plot, because I actually really liked my beginning plot). 

What do you guys think? Please please tell me in the comments. I do LIKE writing these fanfictions, and I would like to write a VenturianTale one. Thank you for your patience, and I hope to start writing again very soon. :)


	5. UPDATE

Hey! Jeez, it's been a few months, hasn't it? Well, update, school happened, grades fluctuated, I cried and laughed and went to a trampoline park. I'm in a play, blah blah. Anyways, because of stress and school and so much going on, I just do not have time to finish this story. Will I ever continue? Who knows, maybe. Will I make a new story? Probably. In the near future. So, yeah. If you have any questions or whatever, comment down below!! It's been fun writing, and I hope to continue soon.

Wow this was short.


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